On the Mend
by ThyDeviousViolet
Summary: Joel and Ellie come down with a nasty flu bug...neither one of them is a very good patient.
1. Ellie

The uncharacteristic, abrupt way he entered the house and slammed the door behind him, was a sign of his obvious frustration. Ellie, who had been sitting at the kitchen table as she nurtured a headache, raised her head to get a good look at him: stubbled jaw tense, aged lips in a hard line, and a furrowed brow.

Joel was pissed at something, and spectacularly pissed at that.

It was such a rare occurrence to have him blatantly express emotion, that it briefly allowed her to forget the throbbing at her temples and the faint nausea that bubbled in the pit of her gut.

She had admittedly felt like hell all day, and had resorted to taking the rest of the day off from the stables, per Maria's orders. In fact, she had been posted in the kitchen for at least an hour, enjoying her peace and quiet, before Joel had been so kind as to barge inside. Yet, as she watched him fumble and then kick his boots across the living room floor, she felt something that mimicked satisfaction.

"Fuckin' asshole," he murmured angrily to himself, and released a breath that he'd been holding.

Ellie felt her lips twitch and almost turn into a smile: had she not felt so damn bad, she would have been rolling on the floor with laughter by now. It was no surprise to her that he was easily agitated, but this level of annoyance, even on his part, was a first.

"You okay, big guy?" she taunted softly from the kitchen, and he immediately stiffened as his eyes caught her own. For a moment he paused, as he had not noticed her presence, and a look of guilt almost spread across his face, before it was replaced with indigence again.

"Hell are you doin' home so early, huh?" he grumbled, and with his gaze glued to the kitchen tile, he walked right past her toward the kitchen sink. With one rough movement, he turned the cold water on, and splashed a bit on his neck.

She rolled her eyes with his back to her, and crossed her arms.

"Got off early…you know, you didn't really answer my question, Joel," she chided again, ever keen. On queue, he scoffed, and turned his head to glance at her from the sink.

"What, I answer to a fifteen year-old girl now, is that it?" he called over his shoulder, and turned away again.

"Ohhhkay, don't be a fucking asshole about it, you just… came inside a little dramatic, and obviously there's something wrong, so I asked. Don't you worry, I'll never do it again," she spat, and waited for his response.

His shoulders eased at the sink, and he sighed loudly.

"…Sorry kiddo…" he finally replied, and then turned around to assess her features. The arch of her brow and pout curve of her lip signified doubt. Truth be told, she was going for the guilt trip, and luckily it seemed to have worked.

"Really, I am. I'm not…tryin' to be an asshole," he added more softly.

"Do you…wanna talk about it?" she urged, not expecting him to budge, but initiated as always.

He sighed again before he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and then, unexpectedly, sat down across from her at the table. Something twitched inside her stomach, which she normally would have assumed to be excitement from him actually acting like a human being, but in her current state, she froze, and leaned back against the chair. Dizziness suddenly consumed her, and she tried her best to steady herself, as he slowly broke another wall in front of her and prepared to speak.

 _Thank god he's distracted. Holy shit I'm dizzy…this fucking room is spinning. Ugh, get it together, he's finally trusting you, with, like…emotions! Don't ruin this Ellie, be caring and cool, just like we practiced._

"It's just…this whole fuckin' town. All the nosy neighbors and god damned do-gooders…"

As she talked herself through the listening process, she realized she hadn't heard a word of what he said. There he was, opened in front of her like a flood gate, but she was so distracted with maintaining composure, as she fought against whatever illness that threatened to take her, that she hadn't heard the beginning.

"-cause' no one can mind their own damn business, especially him-"

She blinked hard, and watched as his lips moved and his arms gestured, obviously worked up about something. It was fairly evident that the problem had something to do with Tommy, as she'd somehow managed to gain at least that much in her struggle for consciousness.

"-and bringin' you into that matter ain't none of their concern-"

Somewhere near the end of his rant, however, she noticed that her ears began to ring, and her lips began to tingle, before they went completely numb. She fluttered her lids, and felt herself stagger to one side, before she threw herself against the back of the chair as a desperate means to stabilize.

The jerk of the movement caught his attention immediately: she noticed the outline of his form stiffen.

"You're white as a ghost," he deadpanned, instantly snapped out of his little moment.

As her conscience continued to fade, she felt herself slide further, and then begin to fall.

"Ellie!" his voice echoed.

Before she'd hit the floor, he had somehow managed to run to her side and save her from a decent blow to the head. They had effectively tumbled down together in an ungraceful heap on the floor, but the heroics were there none the less. Maybe she'd come to appreciate that, given some description later on.

"Hey, hey, baby girl…can you hear me?" he prodded, suddenly gentle and voice heavy with concern, hand gripped to the base of her neck, as she was lifeless in his arms.

"Ellie? Ellie! …god damn, girl, you're scarin' me here," he added, breathless by now.

After a few seconds of unconsciousness, her eyes fluttered open, and she stared back at him in confusion.

"What the fuck…?" she managed to mumble, as she tried to piece together the lapse in memory that she currently experienced.

"You passed out cold. Did you eat today?" he prodded, and used his thumb to remove the hair that stuck to the perspiration on her forehead. She shuddered at the thought of food, which he instantly assumed was in response to his small affection, and he swallowed hard.

"Yeah, I did…this morning," she finally said, still grasping all that had happened. Joel's almost permanent frown turned into a scowl. After a moment of debate, he placed the back side of his hand against her forehead, and his eyes widened.

"Kiddo, you've got one hell of a fever," he remarked, some mix of pity and concern.

"I do?" she asked, and began to feel embarrassed by that point.

"C'mon, let's get you upstairs," he stated, and she felt herself begin to fly in his arms. The logical side of her knew this to be false, but the sick, weakened side got a rush of exhilaration from the weightless sensation. Uncontrollably, she began to giggle as they made their way up the steps.

"Uhhh, somethin' funny?" he asked, now uneasy again.

"I feel like I'm flying," she mumbled, almost incoherent.

The next few minutes were a blur as well. He'd put her in her bed, but had seemingly left the room. Soon, though, he had returned with a heap of blankets. She felt the weight of the bed dip down again, as he sat down next to her, and met her eyes with absolute, gentle concern. Big bad Joel had somehow morphed into a tender giant, and the transformation was proof to her that he was more human than he gave himself credit for at most times.

"Can you give me one of those? I'm…I'm freezing here," she finally admitted.

"I'd like to get that fever a' yours down before I go gettin' you warm. I know it ain't comfortable, but you think you could handle an ice bath?" he asked.

"To be honest, I don't even think I have the strength for that," she admitted sheepishly.

"I can carry you in there no problem," he disagreed.

"No, no…I, uh, I wouldn't be able to, you know, get my clothes off and stuff…" she added. Something in his mind raced, and though she was not sure if it was from her admission of weakness, or the potential connotation of her words, but he seemed to stop breathing for a moment.

"I'll just get you a cold rag for your forehead. You stay up here while I go get the doctor, we clear?" he added, more severe than necessary.

"Well fuck, Joel, it's not like I can run away," she grumbled as he got ready, and she almost garnered a smile from him.

"Just…calm down. Make sure you keep that rag there. I'll be right back," he gave her arm a warm nudge before getting up, and paused at the door for a moment to look back at her.

After a moment of debate, he quickly ran to get Gregg, the town doctor. Joel had a notion it was just the flu, but if the case called for more serious intervention, or a batch of antibiotics that the town did not have, he'd be ready to go and search for some.

In about 20 minutes, he'd returned home with firm orders: it more than likely the flu, as assumed, but he'd monitor her progress carefully for the next 48 hours or so, in case she rapidly changed. The rest of the town was on the brink of the winter season, so her symptoms were not uncommon, but truth be told it didn't soothe his worry.

When he entered her room again, he found her trembling frame in the bed. Slowly, he approached the mattress, and noticed her briefly at peace, with sweat beads across her brow. Ellie had effectively thrown the cold rag across the room, and he scoffed bitterly at her stubbornness.

Some force beckoned him, just like before, and he felt his hand linger over her for a moment, like he dare not touch, for fear of bringing ruin to something pure. And, yet, the same force that felt this, also told him that he would be the only one to care for her, and make her better.

Normal defenses weakened, he used the back of his fingers to brush against her clammy cheek, and she awoke instantly.

"You're a terrible patient, you know that?" he taunted, actually annoyed that she'd removed the rag, and he gestured toward the evidence on the floor.

"Well good, because you aren't a doctor. I should be alarmed at your lack of medical expertise, " she replied, and he rolled his eyes.

"Might not have a title, but I have experience, and that makes all the difference. How you feelin'?" he questioned, now serious again.

"I feel like total shit. My body hurts, and I'm cold, and everything just feels…yuck," she tried to describe, and with a rather adorable scrunch of her nose.

"Good news is I think you'll live. How long you feel this bad, anyway?" he prompted, as he'd wondered since the very beginning.

"I felt weird for a day or so, I don't know. Just kinda hit me all at once today. Maria had me go home early, that's why I was already home when you got here," she explained, somehow still chatty despite the circumstance.

"You mean to tell me she knew you were sick and just sent you home?" he prompted, the anger evident again.

"Maria's busy Joel, I'm just thankful she let me leave. Don't get your panties in a twist," she defended.

"She should have told me. And, why the hell didn't you tell me as soon as you started feelin' sick?" he added, now slightly more angry.

 _Typical Joel, go ahead and start lashing out because you finally care about something and you couldn't make everything perfect._

"I don't know… I guess I wasn't worried, or i just didn't want to draw attention to myself," she tried to reason.

"Well, don't do it again. You scared me a little, to be honest, and I'd like it if you told me when somethin's goin' on with you," he added, still angry but slightly more soft somehow.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't all that intentional. Plus, no offense, but you don't really tell me when things are going on with you," she accused, and he scoffed.

"True…but I'm workin' on it," he spoke, suddenly soft again.

"…Noted," she remarked, not fully convinced, and with a yawn.

"Before you fall asleep, do you think you can stomach some food?" he asked.

On queue, she nearly dry heaved on the bed, and he jumped back.

"No…no no," she mumbled, and swallowed hard.

"Ellie…do you need a trash can?" he asked, eyes severe.

"I'm fine, just don't make me eat. _Please_."

* * *

 **Some Hours Later…**

When he entered her room again, he found her to be in a deep sleep. He slowly sauntered across the room to grab the small rag she'd effectively grown frustrated with early on in the healing process. Regardless of her annoyance with it, he still needed to make sure the fever didn't become too severe. After he went into the bathroom to wet the material with cold water again, he returned back to her room. With what was now becoming a routine, he sat down next to her in her bed, and gently tried to nudge her awake.

"Ellie, honey…" he soothed, only aware of his word choices after they'd escaped his mouth. Not that it was the first time, but the idea that he said them so effortlessly frightened him more than he liked to admit.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and smiled softly.

"How long have I been out?" she asked, still confused.

"Few hours or so. How we doin'?" he asked.

"Still like shit. I'm fucking freezing, Joel, I can't stand it," she groaned, and normally he would have rolled his eyes at the dramatics, but it was evident to him that she felt awful. Of the pair, he often thought her to be the stronger one, and for her to admit a weakness was surprising to him. It was one of the reasons he continued to ask about her condition like a broken recored. Luckily for him, it did not seem to annoy her, but rather made her feel like he was concerned for her wellbeing.

"I'll grab the other blanket in my room," he stated, and rose to get up, but she grabbed his arm.

"Well don't do that! You have to sleep sometime. And then you'll be cold," she disagreed, and he scoffed.

"I'm gettin' the blanket, Ellie," he refused.

"Joel!" she protested yet again, and he spun around on his heels.

"What?" he moaned.

"Just, like, chill or something. You keep running in and out of here to keep busy. And, I know for a fact that the most effective way to generate body heat is to…you know…snuggle up to someone," she trailed off.

Joel's jaw dropped, and he all but collapsed on the floor with laughter.

"Snuggle up…is that what you just said? Have you forgotten who you're talkin' to kid?" he pressed, somewhat shocked.

"Don't act like we've never done it before," she deadpanned.

"It's different when you're in the wilderness tryin' to survive, Ellie, you know that," he reprimanded, and crossed his arms.

Something in her stomach twitched again: that was his defensive stance, the one he used when he didn't have the strength to tell her no, even if he wanted to do it.

"Joel…" she called in exhaustion, all playfulness lost.

"What now?"

"Please? I'm freezing. Not even for long…I just want to get comfortable for a second," she admitted truthfully.

His eyes narrowed across the room, and for a moment she thought he'd left, because he'd gone so silent. In response, she had turned her back on the door to bring her knees up to her chest, but was suddenly surprised when she felt the bed move, and he slowly got comfortable behind her body.

 _That's right…all on your terms buddy. Get comfortable, and let me snag some of that body heat. Not mention the…other benefits._

Slowly but surely, he eased closer to her, and forced his arm under her pillow, as he brought his torso to her back, and then his legs. As the final step, he eased his feet toward hers, and then shuddered at their temperature.

"Jesus Christ, girl, your feet are ice," he mumbled in her ear, and the warmth moisture tickled the workings of her ear. Normally, she'd relish in the closeness from another standpoint, as her feelings continued to evolve into something much stronger than before, but truth be told, she was so cold and restless that she just appreciated his eagerness to ease her discomfort.

 _Such a softy…what the hell is this feeling in the pit of my stomach?_

"Thank you…for this," she finally replied, as his warmth spread through her being.

With one arm under the pillow, he brought the rag up to her forehead. Instantly she shuddered from the coolness, but before she could protest he quietly shushed her small groan of displeasure. Many years ago, he recalled a small girl who'd had the same reaction to keeping a cool rag on her feverish forehead: luckily, he'd learned even then that it was difficult to get comfortable, and so he'd sleeplessly held the rag to her as she'd rested. Then, however, he'd had the luxury of drugstore medicine, and his eagerness to get Sarah's fever down was mostly from his own anxiety. Now, however, he felt it actually was his duty, though the loving reward in the pit of his stomach was still the same.

After a few minutes, she finally seemed to ease. With his other arm free, he brought it around front to rub some more heat into her arm, before he let his hand rest at the base of her neck.

"Your muscles achy?" his deep voice resonated, and she nodded, as she felt his thumbs knead little circles into her neck, and back, and arms. Finally, she felt herself begin to drift back to sleep.

His rough, hardened hands on her soft, ivory skin was such a sharp contrast that it hurt him to look: it seemed too definitive of their entire relationship, or bond, or whatever it was that had happened on the journey and continued to happen now. Yet, the small creature in front of him finally dozed into a peaceful sleep, and the satisfaction he got from at least soothing her enough for that made it worth all the rest of the confusion that ached in his being.

Some hours later, she awoke again in his arms, and as always, he was already wide awake. There was some watchful quality he felt the need to enforce with her, especially while sick…possibly some repressed paternal instinct from long ago, which monitored her in awe as she slept.

With his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply when he noticed that she had stirred, almost as a last minute effort to enjoy (yes…joy…it had unfortunately developed into that at least an hour into the process) her the way she was now.

At peace, and happy, and safe.

"Good mornin' baby girl," he praised affectionately, voice husky.

"Good morning…" she replied, deeply moved that he had stayed with her through the night. Just like the old times, only she did not feel it was out of obligation in this instance, and that alone was so satisfying.

"I'm gonna need you to eat this morning, all right?" he added softly.

"Ugh, I'd rather not," she disagreed, but was thankful to have been able to stomach the idea.

"I know, I know…but just a little somethin'," he persisted.

"I don't think it's all that necessary, I'll probably puke in the kitchen," she tired to sway him away.

"I'll take my chances," he replied curtly.

"Okay, but I just really don't want to… I've rested up like a good patient, I think that deserves a reward," she bargained.

"You're right, and I kept you warm last night when I'm not even a snuggler, so you've already gotten it," he taunted playfully.

"Yes you are, you big fucking softy. You're like a big old bear," she accused, and he snorted.

"Just eat for me this mornin' and I'll make it worth your while," he added somewhat suggestively, and ignored her previous comment.

Her stomach leapt, in a good way.

"Oh, really? Continue…" she trailed off.

"Hot bath water for a week," he mumbled like it was nothing.

"You're shitting me!" she yelled in disbelief.

"No, I'm serious. We can shake on it, if you want," he added.

The promise in his voice made her want to giggle like a school girl with glee.

In a few days time, she'd come to make a full recovery, as expected. He may not have been a doctor, but it was certain he'd once been a father, and that sort of compassionate touch she'd seen bits of before was hopefully well on the mend and soon to make a full return.

* * *

 _A/N: I really just needed some fluff in my life. I'm in the process of writing a Chapter 2, and we're going to see Joel come down with some yucky bug too. Ellie's thrilled to help, but he's totally not having it. Fluff and humor ensue. Huzzah!_


	2. Joel

Some morning a few days later, once she'd fully healed her brief illness, they slept together peacefully. There was something about her being content that made Joel more relaxed than he'd been in a long time. Though, about a day into her sickness he was aware that she was most definitely taking advantage of his offered services, and he had begrudgingly made the comment more than a few times that he wasn't her slave, but deep down...he enjoyed it.

There was a certain magical bewilderment that gleamed in her eyes when he obeyed a command that sent a thrill in the pit of his gut. In fact, he had reminded her over and over that sickness was temporary, and that if _she_ thought _he_ would continue to wait hand and foot on her once she was well again, he'd just have to show her who was boss.

Simply put, his feigned annoyance did not fool her in the slightest. But, she played along anyway for his benefit. God forbid both of them admit that they _enjoyed_ one another...that was too easy. No, they much preferred the bickering and the roughness.

After all, Ellie wasn't Ellie if she wasn't a spitfire. When she'd briefly lost the spunk while being sick, it hurt him deeply.

And, as she healed, Ellie came to appreciate that Joel wasn't Joel if he wasn't hiding literally all his emotions, when in reality he was so sensitive and scared that if he expressed it he'd crumble from his own weight. (Except anger...though...that one always had a way of making itself known without fear or doubt.)

So, when she awoke in broad daylight, only to feel him at ease next to her, she instantly knew something was wrong. Usually, if she slept in even until 9:00, he would be on her ass like it was a crime. Joel always had a laundry list of things that could, would, or should be done at any given time.

Instantly, she sat up in bed, and assessed his back.

"Joel," she demanded out of nerves.

"...what?" he finally asked, in a weak, crackly grumble.

"It's like at least 10:30," she stated in disbelief.

"So?" he called from the other side, more annoyed this time.

" _So_? So...I dunno...I've never seen you sleep this late since we got here, for one. For _two_...you sound like _shit_. Joel...are you...are you _sick_?!" she began to ramble, as it all clicked together.

"God dammit will you please stop yellin'," he groaned, and it was then that she truly heard the gravelly whine in his voice.

"So, the big bad Joel isn't invincible! All this time you were bragging about your health," she continued to accost, until she got up to look at him from his side of the bed.

It almost took the breath from her lungs. There were little beads of sweat lined across the deep wrinkles and the new pallor on his face. It even seemed like his beard had greyed overnight. Instantly, she regretted having been so dramatic.

"Uhh...Joel?"

" _What_?" he demanded, and looked pained to even speak, and then swallowed hard.

"You...you look like hell. Are you okay?" she asked, fully knowing the answer, but still not enough to help. He scoffed bitterly.

"No, I'm not fuckin'...I'm not..." he choked for a minute.

"Joel-"

Before she could let his name escape her lips, he had effectively scrambled to his feet and was briskly walking toward the bathroom with his hand to his mouth.

"Holy fuck," she whispered, not sure what to do.

 _Do I follow? He'll probably kill me. Oh, god, that's the nastiest fucking sound I've ever heard! Yeesh, I'm so not good with that...and even I wasn't this sick. Should I just stand here? I mean...he's all alone...and cold...and maybe even a little scared. Ugh, who am I kidding. Get it together, Ellie! Take care of him like he took care of you!_

After her moment of debate, she rounded the corner down the hall and found him with his head pressed against the rim of the seat, breathing heavily. Scared as she was, she also figured she should at least take advantage of the situation. It wasn't like he could fight her off in the state he was in...

She entered the bathroom and sat down next to him on the tile floor.

"Go. _Away,_ " he demanded, head unmoved; weak, but still somehow incredibly intimidating with the echo from the porcelain.

"...Not likely, buddy. We're gonna get you well again, yeah?" she chirped, voice low, and ever optimistic.

 _Is this kid fuckin' baby talkin' me?_

The silence between them was loud.

 _Holy shit, did I just baby talk him?_

 _"_ Now what would you know how to do, huh? Just leave me be," he said, voice more loud.

He had resorted to gesturing with his hands, which proved to her that he was genuinely frustrated with himself and with her, but that he did not know how to move forward. If he wasn't so agitated and sick, she would have toyed with him no doubt, but even she pitied him with the way he looked.

"I can do just what you did for me..." she whispered.

Something about it was almost exciting...if he'd just play along.

"No, you can't-"

"- _yes_ , I can. And I'm in charge now, so end of discussion," she demanded.

It was such a demand that Joel lifted his head out of the bowel to glare at her for a moment. They stared each other down for a long time, but halfway through, his eyes faltered, and he looked away: it was such a show of submission, and a victory for her, that she grinned.

"That's what I thought. Are you done in here? If you are, let's get-" she suggested, but was cut off yet again when he began to retch.

It was an oddly pathetic to hear him be sick, as his stomach contents hit the water. There seemed to be tears in his eyes, and for a moment she panicked that he may be crying, but then she realized it was just a natural response.

 _Joel, crying? He'd murder you for even thinking that._

There was nothing she could give him, for the time being, save for precious silence and the comforting presence of someone who cared. She let her hand gently pat the square of his back, but it was evident to her that the contact was not the least bit comforting to him. Perhaps it would have been for her, but it seemed like he just genuinely wanted to ride out his illness alone. Of course, that wasn't going to happen, but she would allow him at least the peace of mind to do his own thing without interference.

After a few minutes had passed without him being sick again, she stood.

" _Please_...just go. You don' need to see this," he grumbled from shame.

"Think you can make it into your room...?" she prompted softly, and tried to change the subject.

"Yeah..." he finally said, and with a slow nod, began to get up.

Ellie moved toward him as a means to try and steady him, but he gave her an irritated look. It did not seem to deter her, though, and as he rolled his eyes and made his way to the room, he glanced over to see her walking with her arms ready to swoop in, should he fall.

"Ya know, it ain't like you can catch me, kid," he grumbled, and then scoffed.

"I could try," she simply shrugged.

Maybe a few months ago, his persistent negativity would have rubbed off on her, but she knew him too well now, and simply ignored his efforts. When he climbed into bed, she continued to hover over him, unsure of what to do next.

"Can you get yourself settled in?" she prompted, unsure why, but the words fell regardless.

"I'm not a fuckin' cripple, Ellie," he shot back. In response, she simply rolled her eyes.

He so desperately wanted to get under her skin, so he could suffer alone, but the damn girl refused to give up on him. It was almost... _noble_.

"Do you have a fever?" she prompted.

"I dunno," he simply deadpanned, and rolled over in bed, pulling the comforter over himself with his back to her.

"Joel...you look a little shaky. Do you have chills?" she prompted, using a sickly sweet variation of herself that she knew would annoy him. Not to get under his skin, but because she knew if she could get him comfortable this way, that when she started to actually care for him, he'd simply have to accept it.

When his silence wasn't enough, she simply hopped over his side of the bed and placed the back side of her hand to his forehead. The contact made his eyes open wide, and he glared into her eyes.

The game was over, for the moment. For a second, a look of fear spread across her face, no matter how she tried to hide it.

"That's a pretty gnarly fever, Joel. Let's get that down, yeah?" she prompted, very softly.

"...Yeah," he finally admitted, after a sigh.

When she came back with a cool rag, she found him already fast asleep. And, even if just for a second, he looked as though he may have been the gentlest creature she'd ever seen. His heavy, tired lids glued together, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, almost took her breath away.

"No matter how hard you _try_...this is how I know you," she murmured to herself, slipped inside the bed, and placed the rag to his forehead.

* * *

 **A Few Hours Later...**

He was almost positive she was playing reverse psychology with him.

The past few hours, he had lost a significant amount of his strength from the constant loss of his bodily fluids. It was so bad that Ellie had just moved a bin next to his bed, as he no longer had it in him to move up and down whenever he needed to get to the bathroom quickly. Luckily for him, he hadn't thrown up in an hour, and she was forcing water into him like a good caretaker should do, but having gone at least fifteen hours without food, she wanted him to get at least _something_ in his system.

It was not so much that he even felt that nauseated anymore...oddly enough, he felt like he could stomach the idea of food, even if it was only from the fact that it was good for him.

Downstairs, he could smell what he assumed to be soup cooking. Briefly, he worried that she may or may not have any idea how to cook, as her attempts hadn't been all that successful in the past, but was too exhausted to worry on it further.

As much as he wanted to call for her...and ask what she was doing...and in turn ask for a little something to snack on...he refused. The last time she'd come into the room, he had gotten pretty aggressive with her in the middle of his own misery, and though he knew he hadn't hurt her feelings, he knew he had pissed her off, which was significantly harder to deal with in the short-term.

At some point, he started to time how long she'd gone without coming to check on him. After all, what was a man to do when he was this weak, with no TV in the room, and when he'd already slept the day away?

 _Spendin' time with Ellie don't look so bad right about now...wonder what she's doin'..._

As much as it was killing him, he just blatantly refused to be the first to make contact. Not after she had annoyed him all day. It made her so damn happy to be useful...and as much credit as he should have given her, he did _not_ want to admit his own weakness. It's not like he had depended on her...he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Or...so he thought.

Then again, the reason he hadn't just walked downstairs by now was because his legs just wouldn't carry him that far. But, if he told Ellie that, and if he made it seem like he wanted to give her a reason to baby him...she'd never let him live it down.

The idea made him want to throw up again.

And, it was for this reason, that he wondered if she knew deep down what his feelings were, and that he was temporarily weakened beyond his control. It wouldn't be the first time she'd tried playing mind games with him to see who could break first.

Why was she so damn stubborn?

Not that...he didn't think _he_ was being stubborn _too_...but...at least he had an excuse! He was _sick_ for God's sake. It practically gave him a freebie to act like an asshole.

But, as the hours dragged on, and his hunger and actual need for socialization began to knaw at his insides...he not only knew that she had done all of this on purpose, but that he did not mind breaking first.

He sighed for a moment, and glanced outside, noticing that the sun was setting. They had at least spent half the day doing this ridiculous shit. It was so _childish_.

With one last sigh, he bid adieu to his pride, and swallowed hard.

"Ellie...?" he called, ever so slightly, to grab her attention downstairs.

He could have sworn he heard her snicker, but hoped it was his mind playing tricks. After a few seconds of silence, he rolled his eyes, and braced again.

"Ellie...!" he called a bit more loudly.

Then, he actually heard it. Ellie cleared her throat condescendingly downstairs.

 _You gotta be fuckin' kidding me, kid._

"ELLIE!" he finally yelled, and then had a bit of a coughing fit from the effort.

"What is it, Joel?" she finally answered.

"You...uh...you got any food down there?" he called, a bit more meek.

"Food? Are you _hungry_ , Joel?" she taunted.

"Uh, yeah, a little bit," he mumbled, but still loud enough to hear.

"I'm sorry Joel, I'm having hard time understanding you...?" she continued to toy. He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes, the feeling of being played was overwhelming.

"Ellie, I'm hungry!" he finally admitted, and threw his head back in exhaustion.

"You're hungry? Well...there's food down here. You'd better come grab some! It's great," she all but giggled.

"Ellie, I..." he stammered, and then sighed. "I...I can't come downstairs," he offered slightly.

"You can't? Well what ever are we going to do, Joel...?" she taunted for the last time.

" _Ellie_...can you _please_...come up here...and bring some food?" he asked through gritted teeth, as sweetly as he could muster.

"Well sure, Joel! All you had to do was ask!" she called with glee, and quickly bounded up the stairs with a trey full of his requests.

When she reached his room, she found him glaring at her with his arms crossed in bed.

"Really?" he deadpanned.

"Joel, do you want the soup, or not?" she asked, suddenly defensive.

"Yeah, yeah...I want the damn soup. Can I have some or not?" he asked, willing to literally do anything to eat and then go right back to sleep.

"Absolutely...I made it specially for you, silly," she said with a shrug, then sat the tray on the bedside table, and she settled down next to him. But, when he reached to start eating it, she shook her head. He paused in midair, and looked at her defensively.

"You're sick, Joel. Save your rest and keep warm under the blanket. _I'll_ feed it to you," she said effortlessly.

He simply glared at her.

"Ellie, I swear to Christ, you're gonna be the damn death of me," he grumbled, and she grinned.

"I don't know _what_ you mean. Now, open wide. Let's get some food in that tummy," she intentionally babied.

After one last reluctant glare was thrown her way, he obeyed, and she slipped the spoon into his mouth without much fuss. At first, he wasn't eager, but as the brothy liquid continued to fill his mouth, his face began to look almost pleasant. And, for a man who rarely smiled, that meant all the world. She continued to feed him, until the sides of his mouth were almost completely turned upwards.

"Is something funny, Joel?" she prompted after a moment, and did her best not to look entertained.

When he didn't answer, she finally looked into his eyes, and though pale and weak, there was a joy in their light that, accompanied with the loving look on his face, was enough to make her break the cool act and smile too.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't the _nicest_ today..." he led in.

"You aren't the nicest _any_ day...just...especially not today," she urged.

"I know, I know. But, you put up with me anyway. Thank you, ma'am," he added, just about as sincerely as he could.

"And, you put up with me," she added.

"That's the damn truth...more soup," he then demanded, but his acknowledgment of his own need thrilled her, and she continued to feed him.

"Say no more. Maria gave me the recipe...I might have a skill, Joel," she prompted.

"Other than annoying the hell out of me?" he asked.

"It's not a skill, it's a hobby. Totally different," she admitted, and he smiled again.

"Okay, kiddo, that's about all I can take. Think I'm gonna sleep the rest of the night," he finally murmured, and she nodded.

"All right, just let me know if you need me," she collected the trey and almost turned to walk downstairs, before he cleared his throat.

"Uh, where you goin'?" he pretended to be offended.

"Going to let you rest..." she said, dumbfounded. When she turned around completely, though, she found Joel patting his hand on the side of the bed.

"You're not gonna tuck me in and wait until I fall asleep?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled brightly.

"Jokes over, Joel, I won't mess with you anymore. Thanks for entertaining me, though..." she trailed off, when she realized he was being serious.

"Come on over here and get me warm," he demanded again, and she obeyed with excitement.

"You're getting a little bossy, don't you think?" she asked.

"Nope, just lettin' you get me better. Make sure you stay until I fall asleep..." he called over his shoulder, where she had snuggled in behind him.

"Until you fall asleep?" she asked, now confused.

"In case I get a _nightmare_ , Ellie. Jesus, you're bad at this," he taunted again, and began to drift.

"I've created a monster," she deadpanned.

But he hadn't heard, as he was already fast asleep.

* * *

 _To be honest, I feel like this was mostly to be funny, but I actually do think it could happen like this between two incredibly stubborn people. I needed some lightness. Thanks for reading!_


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